urch at Little Chagford," she said. "At least there wasn't two years ago, when this book was published. So that looks as though it can't be VERY early Norman."
"Then let's go on," said Archie, after a deep silence.
We found a most delightful little spot (which wasn't famous for anything) for lunch, and had the baskets out of the car in no time.
"Now, are you going to help get things ready," asked Myra, "or are you going to take advantage of your sex and watch Dahlia and me do all the work?"
"I thought women always liked to keep the food jobs for themselves," I said. "I know I'm never allowed in the kitchen at home. Besides, I've got more important work to do--I'm going to make the fire."
"You can't really lead the simple life and feel at home with Nature until you have laid a fire of twigs and branches, rubbed two sticks together to procure a flame, and placed in the ashes the pemmican or whatever it is that falls to your rifle."
"Well, I did go out to look for pemmican this
Shallow stories and sketches of the British upper classes -- on vacation, playing golf and tennis, and having brittle conversations. Milne's enjoyably witty language makes them pleasant reading, but nothing eventful happens in any of them.
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